A Phoenix on Fire
by The Feisty Rogue
Summary: He knew that, given a chance, they'd get on like a phoenix on fire.


A Phoenix on Fire

* * *

Newt paced before the gates of Hogwarts, feeling more exposed than he had in a long time.

When he'd asked for Dumbledore's assistance, he'd received a note simply stating a time and a place. There had been no indication of whether Dumbledore would actually be amenable to helping Newt.

Well, he'd just have to be. Newt had nowhere else to go.

The clunk of the entrance doors drew Newt's attention, and he watched as Dumbledore strode out of the castle. His was clad in his customary periwinkle waist coat and trousers, robe abandoned, wand settled lightly in one hand.

"Newt," Dumbledore greeted him with a nod. He had not opened the gates.

"Professor Dumbledore," Newt said. "Er, hello."

"Albus, I think, now that you're no longer a student," Dumbledore said. Newt winced.

"Ah yes – you did tell me," he tried the word out on his tongue, and found it difficult to parse, "um, Albus."

"What object did I entrust to you, prior to your departure from this school?" Dumbledore enquired. His face was grim, and Newt realised that this was a test, and one that he better not fail.

Luckily, he knew the answer.

"Dorothy – but, well, she's not an object. She is an occamy, newly hatched from her egg, and she is doing just fine, thank you."

Finally, a smile cracked Dumbledore's stony façade. "Newt, it's good to see you." The gates swung open. "I had to be sure, you understand."

Newt nodded and grimaced in the same instant. After all that trouble Grindelwald had caused masquerading as Percival – well, it just didn't do to think about, the chaos Grindelwald would cause with access to Hogwarts.

Dumbledore led them to his office, one that Newt was very familiar with, despite the years that had passed.

"Tea?" he offered, and moments later, before Newt could reply, a matching pair of cups and saucers appeared. They were accompanied by a fine china teapot that was laced with delicate pink pattern, which steamed from the spout and smelt divine.

"Ah, as always, it seems as if the house elves have been able to read my mind," Dumbledore murmured, a fond smile upon his face. "But I suspect that my tea is not what you're truly here for."

Newt placed down his suitcase and opened the lid, tapping it twice.

After a few moments, Percival climbed forth, eyeing the room with suspicion.

Newt didn't blame him at all. He'd be suspicious of everything too, if he'd woken to discover that three months had passed, and he'd been impersonated by a genocidal Dark Lord for the entirety of it.

Newt sneaked a glance at Dumbledore, who looked truly gobsmacked.

"Percival Graves," Percival growled. "I understand you're the one who can provide me with a safe haven?"

"Well," Newt jumped in, eager to prevent any miscommunication, "I was rather hoping you'd be able to find a place for him on the staff, Prof– Albus. You see, Percival's memory was wiped of all his time spent with Grindelwald. But we're hoping he'll be able to recover it, with some luck, as Grindelwald seems to be under the impression he knows something important. He was rather displeased to learn that Tina – one of MACUSA's Aurors – had found Percival; alive, that is. Er, Percival, this is Albus Dumbledore."

"Please, call me Albus. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Graves," Dumbledore finally said, seeming to have recovered his senses.

Percival huffed. "It's just Graves."

"As you wish," Dumbledore said with a smile, and a twinkle in his eye. "Have a seat. Graves – like one of the original Aurors?"

Percival smirked. "That's right."

"How splendid."

Newt reclosed his suitcase and watched them interact out of the corner of his eye. They were two brilliant men; intelligent, powerful, and compassionate. He'd had an opportunity to befriend Percival on the journey over from New York and knew that given a chance, they'd get on like a phoenix on fire.

A tap of Dumbledore's wand to his desk conjured another cup and saucer. "Tea?" he offered brightly.

They both accepted a cup. Percival tested his, as he had with all the food that Newt had offered; using eleven different spells aimed at exposing poisons and other contaminants. Dumbledore simply beamed at this, as if it were a perfectly normal habit.

"Was that Alchard's Diffuser?" he asked with interest when the cup flashed orange. "How fascinating."

Newt smiled into his tea when Percival twitched, then nodded.

"Yes. I hope you don't take offense but – "

"None taken, my dear man, none at all." Dumbledore's expression turned solemn. "I understand you've had quite the ordeal from my correspondence with Newt. In these times, constant vigilance is essential."

"My sentiments exactly," Percival said, and took a sip.

They exchanged a smile.

Newt, who couldn't believe how often he found himself in these sorts of situations, squirmed awkwardly. First Jacob and Queenie, now this…

Well, he had thought they'd get along.

"So, do you think you'll be able to find a position for Percival?" Newt asked, and then cursed his phrasing.

"I'm sure we'll manage," Dumbledore said enigmatically. "Headmaster Dippet can hardly object to another wand guarding the castle."

He extended his hand, and Percival shook it. "Hogwarts welcomes you, Graves."

Percival smiled, a rare occurrence. "I'm glad to be here," he said, his voice smooth.

Newt wished he were anywhere else, or that he were as oblivious as many people believed him to be. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I better get going," he said, scrambling to his feet. Dumbledore, who Newt often forgot was a Legilimens so light was his touch, became pink cheeked upon catching Newt's eye.

"Ah, yes. My floo allows outbound travel, if you'd like?"

Newt nodded, accepting a fistful of floo powder.

"Keep in touch," he said to the both of them, and glanced at the fireplace.

Percival inclined his head. "Thank you, Newt, for all you've done."

Dumbledore patted his shoulder. "Stay out of trouble, if you can," he instructed with a wry smile. Newt shrugged, even as Percival scoffed – for they both knew it would be impossible.

He stepped into the fire. "Scamander Residence," he called, and was swept away, leaving Percival to Dumbledore's safe keeping.

As he tumbled into his parent's greeting hall, there was a grin upon his face.

* * *

Word Count: 1053

Insane House Challenge 9. Percival Graves

Resolutions 13. Write a fic set in Dumbledore Era

365 Prompts 62. Periwinkle

Auction Challenge Slytherin 11. Newt Scamander

Scavenger Hunt 2. Write a pairing with less than 50 fics in the archive

Easter Egg Hunt 53. Percival Graves/Albus Dumbledore

Easter Bingo 29. Percival Graves/Albus Dumbledore

Guest the Name Chick 20. Percival Graves

Buttons (pairing) 1. Percival Graves/Albus Dumbledore


End file.
